Hect. 'Tis well: consider at whose house I find you.
Troil. Ha!
Hect. Does it start you? I must wake you more;
317 Antenor is exchanged.
Troil. For whom?
Hect. Imagine.
Troil. It comes, like thunder grumbling in a cloud,
Before the dreadful break: If here it fall,
The subtle flame will lick up all my blood,
And, in a moment, turn my heart to ashes.
Hect. That Cressida for Antenor is exchanged,
Because I knew 'twas harsh, I would not tell;
Not all at once; but by degrees and glimpses
I let it in, lest it might rush upon you,
And quite o'erpower your soul: In this, I think,
I showed a friend: your part must follow next;
Which is, to curb your choler, tame your grief,
And bear it like a man.
Troil. I think I do,
That I yet live to hear you. But no more;
Hope for no more; for, should some goddess offer
To give herself and all her heaven in change,
I would not part with Cressida: So return
This answer as my last.
Hect. 'Twill not be taken:
Nor will I bear such news.
Troil. You bore me worse.